


Words

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is trying to find the words he needs to tell Stiles how he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> stilesbansheequeen said:56. “It brings out your eyes.” and sciles would be awesome :) Hope you enjoy this!

There’s a playlist running on Stiles’ laptop that seems to include a lot of songs from the nineties that Scott hasn’t heard in years. Some of them, well, he definitely _hasn’t_ missed. Stiles is still in the shower, so Scott’s been trying to keep himself occupied while waiting. Normally, he’s not so tense, especially not with Stiles, but there’s been a lot on his mind recently that he can’t seem to stop thinking about. Being in Stiles’ room with his scent heavy in the air doesn’t make it any easier to think.

The fading notes of “Creep” give way to some poppy boy band that makes him grin because Stiles actually has that on a playlist? Seriously. Scott falls back on the bed, turning his head slightly so he can sniff Stiles’ pillows while the Backstreet Boys singing about wanting things that way. The previous song would probably be a more suitable soundtrack to Scott rubbing his face against the Stiles scented pillows because he’s pretty sure he’s moved firmly into creeper land now. Fortunately, Stiles is still showering, so Scott can get away with being weird.

By the time the shower stops, the laptop is playing Matchbox Twenty, and Scott’s actually singing along about being lonely at 3 a.m. because he sort of knows how that feels. It’s a pretty depressing song, though he's not entirely sure why he feels that way. It’s just making him feel antsy, in a way, and he’s relieved when the door opens because it’s impossible to feel lonely when Stiles is around. “Took you long enough,” Scott says, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he makes himself comfortable on Stiles’ pillows.

“Whatever.” Stiles rolls his eyes before tossing the damp towel he’s been using to dry his hair right at Scott’s face. “Looking as hot as I do takes time, Scotty boy.”

“Lie.” Scott tightens his grip on the towel as he looks at Stiles, noticing the droplets of water glistening on his bare chest and the snug boxer-briefs riding low on his bony hips. His fingers itch for a moment, and he sits up quickly at the realization he’s about to claw out. He clears his throat when Stiles gives him a confused look, not liking the way Stiles narrows his eyes like he’s seen a new problem that needs solved. “You always look like that.”

“Good save, but you’re full of shit.” Stiles huffs a laugh before turning to walk to his closet. Scott stares blatantly at his ass because it’s _right there_ and he’s only human. Well, werewolf but with human tendencies? Stiles starts digging through his clothes while Scott enjoys the view, taking in the pale skin and muscular shoulders and moles that are scattered over his body. “Where are we going? Do I need to wear something nice or can I just dress normal?”

“When are you ever normal?” Scott teases, dragging a hand over his face because really? Getting husky sex voice when talking to his best friend isn’t the best idea when it comes to keeping his confusing feelings secret. It’s only been three days since Scott actually admitted to himself that his love for Stiles is maybe not the epic bromance of Beacon Hills that he’s always thought and more like the ‘I wanna marry you and touch you forever and raise babies and puppies with you until we die’ kinda love. Lydia suffered through his epic breakdown and freak out before calling him an idiot and telling him to talk to Stiles. But how’s he supposed to tell Stiles the truth when he can’t imagine his life without Stiles being a part of it?

“Damn, wolf thinks he’s got jokes tonight.” Stiles gives him another one of those ‘I know something’s up but haven’t figured it out yet’ looks over his shoulder. “Nice or comfortable?”

“Is there a nice but comfortable option?” Scott asks curiously. “I don’t know what kind of dress code this place has, but I doubt Lydia’s the type to go to restaurants where sweatpants are acceptable.”

“Ugh. It better not be formal.” Stiles makes a face before going back to his clothes choice. “I don’t know why she wants to go to some fancy dinner tonight anyway. When I asked, she just told me to shut up and that you’d pick me up.”

“It’ll be fun.” Scott tries to sound enthusiastic but he totally fails. He looks down at his shirt and wonders if it’s nice enough for this fancy place Lydia got reservations for. He’s in on her ridiculous plan to conveniently not show up so he and Stiles get to have a romantic dinner alone so he’ll have the perfect setting for confessing everything to Stiles. Scott agreed because, well, Lydia’s scarier than anyone they’ve ever faced before, and she doesn’t much like being told no. Besides, after everything that’s happened the last couple of months and graduation being in like two weeks, he knows he really does need to get some courage or else he’ll be one of those unhappy old men who talks about regrets and the one who got away.

“Maybe if you keep saying that, you’ll eventually believe it.” Stiles turns around and shows him a blue shirt that’s a shade that does the most amazing things for his eyes that Scott’s ever seen. It makes them actually look amber instead of brown, not that the usual brown isn’t beautiful. With that shirt, they just look even more amazing. “What do you think?”

“It brings out your eyes,” Scott whispers, staring at Stiles and wondering how he’s been so stupid for so long by not realizing how he felt until after Stiles disappeared, until he almost lost him again, and he wants to say all this stuff to Stiles, wants to try finding the words, but words aren’t really his thing. They’re Stiles’ thing, and Scott’s always been happy to let Stiles have them. Now, he wishes he had a few for himself because he needs them right now.

“It does?” Stiles looks at him for a moment before his eyes widen. He lowers his arm and blinks at Scott, his scent suddenly smelling scared and hopeful in this bitter-sweet aroma that makes Scott’s pulse race. “Oh.”

“Oh what?” Scott licks his lips and swings his legs over the side of Stiles’ bed.

“You, uh, you’re looking at me?” Stiles’ fingers are twitching, curling around the hanger he’s holding as he focuses on Scott with an intensity that’s new. Different. Scott’s not sure if it’s good or not yet.

“I’m always looking at you, Stiles,” Scott admits, cringing when he hears his voice break like he’s going through puberty again. He’s a true alpha; he shouldn’t be this nervous talking to his best friend.

“You are?” Stiles takes a step towards the bed, tilting his head slightly and studying Scott. “What changed, Scott?”

“We did.” Scott runs his fingers through his hair and watches Stiles step closer. “Or maybe we didn’t? Maybe it’s always been there but we just weren’t ready to see it yet.”

“You talked to Lydia, didn’t you?” Stiles grins. “That sounds like something she’d say.”

“I had to talk to someone, and you weren’t really a possibility.” Scott shrugs. “She wasn’t surprised.”

“I am.” Stiles sighs. “I didn’t even know you were interested in guys. When I told you I was pan, you didn’t mention it.”

“I’d never really thought about it before,” Scott says honestly. “I don’t really care about what the wrapping is as much as who they are inside, though.”

“Good to know.” Stiles is standing right in front of him now, and Scott reaches out to take the shirt from him, fingers rubbing against the soft blue fabric as he stares up at Stiles. When Stiles reaches out to cup his cheek, Scott almost whimpers, barely catching himself from making a noise. “Are you sure about this, Scotty?”

“More sure than I’ve been about anything, Stiles.” Scott turns his head, kissing Stiles’ palm before reaching out to tug him down onto his lap. “I wanna try this. Try _us_. If you want?”

“I’m straddling your lap half-naked,” Stiles points out, lips curving into a mischievous smile that Scott feels the urge to kiss off his face. “I think we passed the limits of platonic when I did that.”

“Friends can straddle each other.” Scott totally supports friends being affectionate with each other, after all, but he definitely doesn’t feel friendly when Stiles rolls his hips that way. “ _That_ , however, isn’t platonic.”

“No, it’s definitely not.” Stiles leans in and ghosts his lips over Scott’s, not touching but close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “I want. To try being an us. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Scott whispers, reaching around Stiles to grip his butt so he doesn’t fall off his lap when he leans up to press their lips more firmly together. Stiles grips the back of Scott’s neck as he returns the kiss, the damp towel behind Scott’s back when Stiles urges him to lie back on the bed when the kiss deepens, tongues tentatively flicking out to lick and taste before becoming bolder and more daring.

As they kiss and touch, Scott distantly hears his phone buzz with the reminder about dinner but he ignores it. He’ll face Lydia’s wrath for missing their reservations because Stiles is kissing him and rubbing against him and they can make sandwiches later, when they’re ready to talk about this or not talk, since Stiles knows Scott so well that words aren’t necessary.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


End file.
